


Over a Thousands Years and Yet...

by Awesomepie3221



Series: Drabbles from Tumblr (and some other places) [6]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but honestly, mentions of a boner, the church scene when crowley blows up the nazis you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:10:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awesomepie3221/pseuds/Awesomepie3221
Summary: Then he lifted up the bag of books, knowing so elegantly that he had just saved something Aziraphale loves the most.





	Over a Thousands Years and Yet...

**Author's Note:**

> This one doesn't come from Tumblr but from a sentence I had written about Aziraphale forgetting his penis existed for over a thousand years, then me asking my friends what would remind him, and my friend responding with "Crowley walking in." The sentence comes from a smut fic I may post eventually (if I finish writing it.)

Crowley had come into a church for him. Crowley had blown up a church for him. Crowley had saved his precious books for him.

All because he knew Aziraphale was in trouble and he had to save him for the second time since their existence. Not that Aziraphale was at risk for death, but if his body was ruined, then he would have to get a new one. Crowley quite liked his current body. 

So he saved Aziraphale.  Killed the Nazis in the process, as well, for good measure, because those were on neither side. They belonged solely to the humans. 

After the explosion, it was the first time Aziraphale got to truly see Crowley that night. And as ashy as he was... he was gorgeous. Dark cheeks, sunglasses covered in ash that now hang from his finger, hair in obvious need of washing, but short and still so red. Always so red. 

Then he lifted up the bag of books, knowing so elegantly that he had just saved something Aziraphale loves the most. 

It had been one-thousand three-hundred and forty-five years, two-hundred and twenty-one days, four hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifty-nine seconds since Aziraphale had remembered his penis existed, and not a second longer. 

In that moment, when he thought he may finally know what humans were on about when it came to love, his trousers tighter than normal, the only thing he could say was "oh."


End file.
